


Scones, Schemes, and Surprises

by orphan_account



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Fluff, M/M, POV Simon Snow, Scones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Someone is anonymously sending Simon scones. The best fucking scones he's had in his entire life. And he's going to find out who’s sending them.In other words: Simon realises just how gay he is for Baz Pitch.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 9
Kudos: 157





	Scones, Schemes, and Surprises

Someone keeps sending Simon scones.

Scones that are, by far, the best he’s ever tasted in his entire life. Better than any he’s received at the orphanage, better than the ones at Watford (which are really fucking good), better than the ones that Penny spells up when he’s especially whiny and hungry, better than anything. They are simply perfect. Warm and soft and sweet and have just the right amount of jam and cream on them. God, he’s salivating so much just thinking about them.

Simon would be perfectly happy eating scones from the random stranger sending and (presumably) making them but they could be from anyone. He couldn’t go on, peacefully, eating them, not when he didn’t know for sure who the sender was. Especially when he already had someone in mind. 

They could be from someone with malintent. And there’s only one person who comes to mind. Maybe it's due to years of fighting and arguing and pushing, but his gut instinct tells him who it is. 

Simon looks across the hall at the object of his suspicions. Baz. The bastard has got to be the one doing it. He was probably trying to kill him or something. Again. 

Although, it’s quite a bit too late, he supposes, looking down at his breakfast. He’d be long dead by now if they were poisoned or infused by some other deadly substance. In fact, he’d told Penny that when she scolded him for eating the first batch. She couldn’t argue with that logic, so he kept on eating them, that didn’t stop her from scolding him, of course. But he’s used to that. He was always a bit reckless, so she was always reprimanding him. And he definitely a bit reckless (and perhaps, stupid) for eating them that first time. To be fair, however, he wasn’t in the best state of mind at the time. He saw the scones, so he ate them, there wasn’t much more thought process than that.

Simon was having a rough day when they first appeared. For one, there were no scones at breakfast (an occurrence of which many were mortified by). Two, Penny wouldn't give him any sympathy at all, ignoring him in order to write her letter to Micah. Three, Agatha told him they should have another break. And to top it all off, he failed his arithmetic essay.

But that wasn’t even the worst part. 

The absolute worst part. The part that really just tipped him over the edge, was when he went up to his room, shuffling his feet, frustrated and miserable and was met by Baz. Baz, who just sat on his bed looking up at him with that infuriating smirk, obviously smug that his day went perfectly while Simon’s went to crap, looking all superior and posh and _perfect._ It was a horrible sight, and Simon couldn't bear to look at him any longer, so he started walking straight to their bathroom in order to bask in his misery in peace and quiet and _privacy._ But then the wanker just had to _laugh at him_ and say “What’s the matter, Snow? Wellebelove dumped you again?” 

And maybe it was the fact he hit the nail right on the head, or maybe it was just the cruel way Baz said it, or maybe Simon just had too much shit happen that day, he didn’t know for certain, but Simon broke. Tears swelled against his will and he didn’t say anything in response like he normally would, just fled to the bathroom. _God_ , he thought _You just had to cry in front of Baz, didn’t you. The bastard must be so satisfied, making you cry like a fucking girl._

Simon was so frustrated he almost felt like going off, so he went in the shower.

He spent a while in there, the water burning hot, and scrubbing a bit too hard. By the end, his skin was pink and raw, the pain taking his mind off the day a bit. But he felt clean and refreshed and his anxious energy had been sated a bit. He felt prepared to leave the bathroom and face another one of Baz’s snide remarks. 

However, instead of coming face to face with Baz, the room was empty. Baz wasn’t there. Simon knew what he’d be doing. Baz was a vampire. Simon had known for a while. He always went out at night to kill animals for their blood. The thought was disgusting and usually Simon would try to catch him in the act. Get evidence to reveal him to the Mage but he wasn’t feeling it that day. Instead, he did something that he often neglected, he studied. 

It was in the throes of night, pitch black outside, the last tendrils of the sunset had left hours before, and Simon was on the verge of sleep at his desk, slowly scribbling words that didn't quite make sense, when a plate of scones suddenly appeared in front of him.

It was quite a shock, so much so he almost tipped off his chair. Luckily however, he maintained his balance and tried to wrap his mind around the scones in front of him. Was he dreaming? They were fresh, perfectly baked and delicious smelling, his stomach growled. But they were also accompanied with a note. Simon could not recognise the handwriting but on it said: _Noticed you were having a bad day, hope this makes it a bit better._

It was not signed. They obviously wanted to remain anonymous. So, Simon pondered for a bit, before, not wanting to waste a single second more, devouring them. He definitely should’ve been more cautious, but he stuffed those scones into his mouth one after the other and didn’t stop until the whole batch was gone. Finished, feeling a bit disgusted but satisfied even with his stomach feeling wonky, Simon went to his bed. Slipping under the covers to fall asleep he couldn’t help but wonder who it was who gave it to him – if any such person existed, he still wasn’t quite show he hadn’t just accidentally magicked it up himself in his fatigue - so he could thank them.

Either way, that night he slept more peacefully than he had in a long time. 

Simon thought that would be the end.

But whenever he'd had a bad day since, someone would magick scones up to his room without fail. It wasn’t always in the dead of night, they came any time really. But Simon knew that once he was seen moping around the school for one reason or another, he could expect to eat delicious scones later that day.

It wasn't very long before he came to the conclusion that it had to be Baz sending them.

Simon wasn’t stupid, despite what Baz liked to muse. It was really quite obvious when Simon finally thought of the idea. Surprised he hadn’t put the puzzle pieces together before, it was that obvious. And maybe it was just through years of arguing and fighting and pushing and the fact that Baz was always part of anything that went amiss around Simon that he even thought of the idea in the first place. But once he had, he was convinced it was true. Penny even agreed that it was possible, which meant that it wasn’t just Simon’s paranoia. 

Firstly, the anonymous sender sent the scones when Simon was miserable, and Baz _always_ noticed when Simon was miserable. It wasn't always a kind acknowledgment, in fact, it never really was. But every time that Simon came in, quieter than usual, shoulders hunched and stinking of smoke, Baz would smirk, or comment, or just raise a stupidly plucked eyebrow at him.

And then afterwards, when Simon would leave, even if it was only a second, whether to go for his usual nightly shower, or to head to class, Baz would be soon gone. And stay gone for ages. It was in his long leaves of absence that the scones would always appear. And always, only five minute later, could Baz be seen, lounging gracefully on some bed or sofa as if he had no input on the matter.

But the most incriminating part of it all. The part that Baz would probably murder him for mentioning, was after about the fifth time they appeared. Simon had kept his eyes on Baz, wanting proof of his theory. And sure enough, despite how hard Baz was trying to be subtle, he smiled. It was a tiny smile, unnoticeable if one wasn't looking as hard as Simon was. But it was there. Popping up when Simon, perhaps a little obnoxiously, moaned about how delicious the scones were. It really was a hard thing not to notice, Simon realised once he saw it, as it made bastard more attractive than he already was. Which Simon felt weird even thinking about. But he supposed it was jealousy.

But that wasn’t not the point.

Simon glanced at him again.

His instincts still wanted to scream he was plotting something, because when was he ever _not_ plotting something, but Simon really hated that thought. He always had. Because it reminds him that one day he’ll have to defeat him. Simon had felt that horrible feeling in his gut whenever he thought about finally defeating (and perhaps killing) Baz. He didn’t really understand why. He supposed it was because the thought of killing anyone, let alone Baz, wasn’t the most thrilling idea to him. But he couldn’t shake the image that the defeat of Baz, in particular, was wrong. Of course, Simon was still convinced that he was up to something. Even if it wasn’t evil. There was something there. 

After all Simon had debunked the malicious scone theory. As it didn’t make much sense. Because, again, if Baz really did poison those scones, Simon would be dead already. And even if it was just an elaborate scheme to lure Simon in for evil conniving or something equally stupid, Baz would’ve made it much more obvious it was him.

Because ever since the first batch of scones, Baz had tried to make it abundantly clear it was not. He would scoff or ignore Simon every time he'd ask him if he knew who sent them or if they had sent a message through anything. He had absolutely no interest in helping Simon find out his anonymous master scone deliverer. Not that he’d help him even if he wasn’t the one behind it all.

Simon didn’t understand why that disappointed him.

All he knew was that he had to catch him in the act, or else his paranoia would continue forever. 

But Simon wasn’t sure what it would even mean once he proved it. Did Baz not actually hate him? Did he actually want to be friends? It was a strange thought, so Simon shook his head. He had to focus on what he was going to do if he did catch Baz in the act. Would he use it as an opportunity to embarrass Baz and one-up him? Or would he simply just be happy? Simon was even less sure about that. But he had to do it to find out.

So, Simon’s brilliant plan quickly came to fruition. It wasn’t the most organised, but he was sure it was good enough.

One night he staged a fight with Penny. He’d begged her to be somewhat convincing in yelling at him (as it was a vital part, in fact, it was step one of the plan), but in the end she still had a bored face as she half heartedly said “I will never forgive you, Simon!”. The idea was to give him some reasonable basis to be moping around, enough so that it would warrant another batch of scones. Simon didn't know how convincing his sulking was, as he went into his room and straight to the bathroom, huffing and sad, while passing, a (seemingly) uninterested Baz who didn’t even glance up, but Simon continued on anyway.

He turned on the shower as he always did. But he didn’t strip or step into the water as usual. Instead, he waited a minute before slowly peeking out of the door. And sure enough, Baz was gone. Simon was happy at the thought he might actually be a pretty good actor, but as even happier, for reasons Simon couldn't quite explain, that his theory was most likely correct. Baz probably did bake the scones all that time. Simon’s heart beat with excitement. Must be nervous.

Step 2 of the plan commenced. Simon had - while begging Penny to be a decent actor - also asked her to cast a **Follow in his footsteps** between him and Baz. So, immediately after coming out of the shower, Simon felt his body being pulled by an invisible string, one that pulled him towards Baz. Instead of going out the window like Simon assumed would happen - he even asked Penny to cast a **Light as a feather** on him so he wouldn’t fall to his death as Baz came in that way when coming back from the catacombs. So, he was tugged through their entrance door, pulled along the hallway, down the stairs and through the courtyard. It kept pulling. Simon - in order to attempt to not look suspicious - had to look like he was walking properly, which was a struggle as the string was strong enough to drag him across the ground, but he kept himself upright.

Eventually though, the tugging blessedly stopped, and Simon noticed that he was outside the kitchens, with Baz presumably inside. Simon had never been there before. Simon didn't even realise students could enter the kitchens. Perhaps they weren't but Baz had managed his way in anyway. It was certainly something Baz would be capable of. And the staff did go home after dinner so maybe it was a fairly easy break in. 

That leads him to now.

And Simon is stalling.

He doesn’t know why, but he’s scared of the confirmation it’s Baz. it would change their whole relationship. For their entire school lives, they have loathed each other. But perhaps, it was all just pretend. Just as fake as the fight he had with Penny. And Simon felt guilty. Guilty for spying on Baz, guilty for wanting to get him expelled, and to reveal his vampirism. And guilty for just being an asshole. And of course, Baz too is part of their rivalry, but Simon does provoke him an awful lot… maybe it’s been his fault this entire time. Maybe they could’ve been friends instead. Simon doesn’t know. And he realises he doesn’t know a lot about anything, especially about Baz. And Simon thinks that he would rebel against that idea. But then he smells it.

Scones. 

Simon opens the kitchen door as quietly as possible and peeks in. 

And there’s Baz. Making scone batter.

Simon was _right_ all along. 

He goes to push the door open further to reveal his presence but stops himself as he actually takes in the sight of Baz. Cooking. He looks so… domestic. 

Simon feels his face heat up a bit because it’s almost _embarrassing_ looking at him. Not in a bad way, it’s just that Baz looks so peaceful and vulnerable. So unlike how Baz normally presents himself. It feels like Simon’s watching something only Baz’s girlfriend should see which was… another weird thought. But Simon continues watching anyway. Baz sifts his flour, adds butter and milk, and kneads his dough, humming throughout the entire process. He watches him through every step, entranced by the gracefulness of his hands, until eventually he has plopped the unbaked scones in the oven. He has flour everywhere, on his hands, on his cheek, on the floor. It’s a strange sight because Baz is usually such a clean and orderly person, but here he is, not seeming to mind the mess at all. No. He looks _happy_ about it.

And _that_ is when Simon starts feeling really strange. 

Baz gives a satisfied huff as he looks at the scones. But he doesn’t stop there. If he had, Simon still might’ve had a chance. But of course, Baz couldn’t give him that. No, Baz just has to smile. A massive smile, that brings out dimples that Simon didn't even know Baz had, a smile which makes him look so boyish, and young and _cute_ and Simon sort of feels like murdering him because, wow, he might be going through some sort of mental crisis. 

Simon thinks Baz is cute.

His rival. Cute. Simon thinks that.

If Penny were here, she’d probably say something about how obvious it was the entire time, that the fact that Simon was gay for his roommate and rival was evident to everyone. And Simon would have to agree. She’d also suggest that he was an oblivious idiot, and he’d have to agree with that too. 

Because he _is_ an oblivious idiot and as he thinks back it was _super fucking obvious._

A small rebellious part of him wants to argue that it wasn’t. That maybe his crush, isn’t one and instead some crazy Pavlov induced association between Baz’s face and scones. Maybe he likes Baz because he liked scones? 

No, that’s fucking ridiculous.

Simon has to admit it. Throughout this whole, anonymous scone sending nonsense, there’s only been one person, there has _always_ only ever one person that Simon hoped it would be. Because that's what Simon knows it is now. Hope. He _wanted_ it to be Baz. He had tried to convince himself it was simply curiosity, maybe even hatred, but no it was hope. 

There’s a reason he felt so disappointed when Baz acted so indifferent to the scones, there’s a reason for Simon’s desperation, there’s a reason, but Simon’s just been too scared to face what the butterflies in his stomach might mean.

He wants Baz to care for him, to be the creator of the most delicious scones he’s tasted in his life. Because that might mean he has an excuse to cling to him for eternity.

Oh, Crowley. He liked Baz. He really really liked Baz. 

And seeing the satisfied and happy look on Baz’s face, Simon almost convinces himself he feels the same.

Luckily, Simon’s about to find out because suddenly Baz freezes. His back straightens out and his expression hardens, mouth pulled into a scowl. Simon hates seeing that face, especially now he knows how soft it can be.

Oh bollocks.

“I know you’re there, Snow.”

Simon freezes and Baz goes on.

“You can stop your spying act now. I’m sure you saw everything you needed.” He paused for a second, “Please, just go.”

Simon walks into the kitchen then, because he’s used to doing the opposite of what Baz tells him to, and Baz doesn’t sound angry like he expected him to be. No, he sounds sad and scared and it makes something unpleasant lurch in his chest. Baz is never scared or sad, he’s always just… himself. Impervious to anything.

But his wide eyes as he stares at Simon shows he’s wrong. Because he looks like a startled deer, an inch away from fleeing or attacking Simon with harsh and unpleasantly pointed antlers. Baz is obviously expecting the worst and Simon doesn’t know what the worst could be, but he wants to put an end to it. He doesn’t like the idea of frightening Baz. Not when Baz isn’t afraid of anything. He’s strong enough to face the world. 

Simon opens his mouth to say something. Anything. Anything would do. But nothing comes out. How can he even describe his thoughts? He’s never good with words. Not like Baz. So, he flounders. As he always does. Looking stupid and just staring at the progressively paling boy in front of him. 

After what feels like hours of awkward silence, Baz clearly has enough. 

“What the fuck, Snow? What the fuck di you come in here for? To embarrass me? Well congratu- _fucking_ -lations, Snow. you did it. Pats on the back to you. You can go to your friend now and rejoice! Yes! It was me the whole time! I’ve been sending you those bloody scones!” Baz looks really manic. And he’s using his hands and facial muscles way more than usual. And Simon’s stunned for a moment in awe of how expressive Baz can be. But then the awe transforms to confusion as his words sink in.

“What the hell are you talking about Baz? I’m not going to do any of that?”

Baz scoffs. “Yes, you fucking are. Don’t lie to me, Snow. It doesn’t become you.”

Simon thought he hated Baz’s expression before. But this. Baz’s complete and utter disbelief that Simon’s not trying to completely humiliate him is infuriating. And before he knows it, he’s rushing towards Baz. He doesn’t know what in Crowley’s name he’s doing, all he knows is that he has to do _something,_ anything to prove to Baz just how fucking wrong he is, and to stop that enraging smirk that doesn’t suit him nearly as well as a smile does. Besides, if Baz doesn’t shut up now, Simon won’t ever be able to show him how grateful he is for the scones.

And that’s how Simon finds himself attached by the lips with Baz fucking Pitch.

The pressure only lasts a moment but its shocking. Enough to send a jolt down his spine which startles Simon enough to remove his hands from Baz’s shoulders and his lips for Baz’s own.

Fucking, fuck, fuck, what did he just do?

His lips tingle as he stares at Baz, sure that he’s the one now looking like a particularly horrified deer in headlights.

But Baz looks the same.

And Simon’s content in just staring for a while, just to stall a bit and not take ownership of his actions, but then he sees Baz start to bristle and open his mouth. And judging from his eyes Simon just knows he’s going to say something awful, something just so completely incorrect Simon would die from just hearing it. So, Simon approaches again before Baz can do anything. And Simon still doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he knows what he wants to do. Because that kiss, tiny as it was, was the best thing he’s felt in his life. Better than anything that he and Agatha did together. So, he follows his desire. He brushes their lips lightly together again. And Simon prepares himself for the surely forthcoming push or shove or vapid berating. But nothing comes.

Baz is stock still. Neither protesting nor engaging. And so, Simon continues, hesitant as it might be. Simon’s heart beats and more time passes, and still Baz doesn’t object at all, so Simon presses himself closer. He rests one hand at the nape of Baz’s neck and wraps the other around Baz’s waist, holding him firmly against him. When Baz still doesn’t move at all, Simon dares to venture further into Baz’s mouth. The first hint of tongue at his lips, however, seems to revive movement in Baz, and Simon huffs in disappointment as he’s pushed back gently.

Baz looks wrecked and Simon wonders, noting from the ruffled state of Baz’s hair, when his hands wandered up there. Baz’s lips are red and parted and Simon wonders further if Baz has ever looked less composed in his life.

Simon is pleased to see that Baz doesn’t look angry, instead he just looks confused, and flushed. Simon loves it.

“What the hell was that, Snow?”

“It was me. Kissing you.”

Baz raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow, “That much was clear to me, funny enough.”

“Yeah, you’re smart like that.” Simon responds.

There’s silence and Simon just wants to kiss him again but instead he says, perhaps a bit stupidly:

“I’m not gay.”

Silence.

“Really.”

“Really, I’m not.” Simon pauses. “But I am for you.” Because it’s true. Simon has never paid attention to any male besides Baz. He only cares about Baz. Saying it out loud just makes him more confident that it’s true.

Baz huffs a laugh in surprise.

“You really are an idiot.” But he smiles.

And Simon grins back.

They spend many more hours in that kitchen. Sharing their third kiss together. Then their fourth. Then their fifth. And not long after, curses can be heard coming out of the kitchen doors as two boys desperately try to salvage the burnt remains of scones. Even later, one could hear their laughter.

In the future, Simon and Baz still fight. That is a given. They still have years of rivalry to overcome. But they also whisper long into the night, wrapped up in each other’s arms, they make out in front of a disgusted but pleased Penny, they hold hands in front of surprised classmates. They spend their lives together.

Simon also, to his pleasure, gets an endless supply of scones.

But more importantly - and that is something Simon thought he’d never say, barely anything beats scones - he gets to love Baz. And Baz loves him back.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I had a ball writing it. Hopefully it wasn't too OOC. Anyways, please comment whatever! Criticism, feedback, anything!


End file.
